


I Need You To Pretend You're Secretly FBI

by plutosrose



Series: Bucky Barnes Bingo 2020 [12]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: (from Brock), Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Blow Jobs, Drunk Texting, M/M, Past Infidelity, Past James "Bucky" Barnes/Brock Rumlow - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-29
Updated: 2020-10-29
Packaged: 2021-03-08 17:08:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,264
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27270208
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/plutosrose/pseuds/plutosrose
Summary: His phone fell straight out of his hands.He blinked at the muscular, blond man, who was most definitely not Brock. “Nat, I’m going to have to call you back."-Bucky wakes up in his apartment and believes that he's hooked up with his scummy ex-boyfriend.Turns out he went home with someone else.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes & Natasha Romanov, James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers
Series: Bucky Barnes Bingo 2020 [12]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1882291
Comments: 13
Kudos: 249
Collections: Bucky Barnes Bingo 2020





	I Need You To Pretend You're Secretly FBI

Bucky awoke with a groan, his head pounding. His entire body ached.

The only consolation seemed to be that he was in his own apartment, in his own bed, curled up with his own soft pillows and blankets.

Unfortunately, however, he could hear the shower running, and the other side his bed with its wrinkled sheets, clearly showed evidence that someone else had been there maybe only moments before.

Grumbling to himself, he reached for his phone, only to realize that it wasn’t there on the nightstand like it was every morning.

His gaze drifted downward to see his phone poking out of the pocket of his jeans, which were currently in a pile right next to the bed.

Blinking, he reached for it, and immediately hit call on Natasha’s name.

“Nat, I fucked up. Please come over as soon as possible so you can help me sell all my possessions and start my new life as a monk in the Italian countryside. I definitely hooked up with Brock again last night and I need you to help me flee the country.”

“Okay, slow down,” she said, in that stupid calm and collected tone of hers. “Start from the beginning.” In moments like these, he both loved and hated the fact that she was so damn reasonable about everything. He sighed.

“I remember going out with some people from work,” he murmured, turning to open the drawer of his nightstand and search for a bottle of aspirin. “We got this massive DOE contract and Tony wanted to celebrate.”

“Okay, what else do you remember?”

Bucky pinched the bridge of his nose in annoyance as he tried to push through the mental block from drinking. “We went to this rooftop bar on the Lower East Side and did shots of some really expensive tequila. Tony wouldn’t shut up about how expensive it was.”

“Okay, anything else?”

He squeezed his eyes shut as he tried to force himself to remember. “I did a lot of shots. A song I really like came on, but I can’t remember which one it was.” He liked a lot of music, sue him for not remembering all of the details when he was hungover.

“So the song comes on, and I am talking to this guy while I’m ordering drinks. I can’t remember what he looked like, but he was hot.”

The more that Bucky thought about it, the more that it was all coming together. Yes, it was obvious when he thought about it. After he and his co-workers had done the first shots, he must have texted Brock, who had then come to the bar. Then, his brain had decided that he would remember that he’d interacted with some hot mystery man to save him the utter embarrassment of having slept with Brock again, after promising himself that they were broken up for good and that he never wanted to see him again. Yes, that sounded like something his brain would do.

“God, I definitely texted Brock, he came to the bar, we hooked up, and now he’s in my shower. Christ, Nat, you have to come over right this minute. Maybe you can try convincing him that you’re secretly in the FBI and need to interrogate him?”

“Pretty sure that’s a felony.”

“Not a felony if the person you’re tricking is your best friend’s dumbass, dick of an ex-boyfriend.”

“No, definitely still a felony.”

She cleared her throat. “Have you even checked your phone to see if you texted Brock?” Nat asked, and Bucky rolled his eyes. “Or are you just assuming that last night happened that way.”

Bucky huffed in annoyance. He wasn’t even sure why she bothered to ask. After he’d dumped Brock, (he wished that he could burn the image of him being balls deep in his roommate Jack out of his head), they’d slept together on no less than three occasions. Each time, Brock hung around for like a week, generally being gross, until he disappeared back into whatever abyss he had crawled out from like the swamp monster that he probably secretly was, and Bucky held onto his number because he had it memorized and drunk texting a contact that was in your phone as opposed to a random number that you remembered off the top of your head was slightly less messy and embarrassing.

Or he just really liked making bad decisions. Honestly, at this point, he wasn’t really sure anymore.

“I don’t need to check Nat, because I got really, really, really drunk last night, and whenever I get that drunk I get amnesia and seem to forget that he’s the biggest douche on the entire planet.”

And really, Nat should have remembered this at this point, because his last birthday, when he had foolishly assumed that he could finally drink Nat under the table, Nat had intercepted his phone while he’d been in the process of writing a series of texts to Brock-- ‘I miss you,’ ‘I need you,’ in addition to several others that he couldn’t remember, but that Nat had mercifully not brought up, because drunk texting the biggest douche on the entire planet was no laughing matter.

He heard the squeak of the shower being turned off, and his heart rate immediately sped up. “Nat, I’m being serious, this is an emergency. If you don’t get over here right now and put the fear of God into this jackass I am going to be spending the next week dealing with my life is _over_. He has a 4chan account, Nat! And not ironically!”

But when the door opened and Bucky got a good look at the man who had just stepped out of the bathroom wrapped in a towel, his phone fell straight out of his hands.

He blinked at the muscular, blond man, who was most definitely not Brock. “Nat, I’m going to have to call you back,” he said to the floor, before blinking at the man again. At this point, he probably thought that he had something in his eye which was not exactly the look that he was going for.

“You’re not Brock.”

The playful, wicked smirk that graced the blond’s features was making his stomach swoop uncomfortably.

“Who’s Brock?”

Bucky stared at him with wide eyes for a moment, and he remembered who Brock Rumlow was. “It’s really not important.” Because it really, really wasn’t.

“It’s Steve, Bucky. You didn’t seem to have a problem remembering it last night.”

The wicked grin on his face went straight to his dick and made a blush creep up his neck.

“Did we--last night--” Bucky began, concentrating hard so that he wouldn’t just stand there gaping at him like an idiot.

Steve shook his head. “Well, I offered to buy you a drink, you ordered the most overly sweet cocktail I think I have heard of in my entire life, we talked about work, then you asked me to come home with you, and I wanted to walk you home at least so I could make sure that you got back safe. Then we kissed a little, but you really were...very drunk. I told you I had a meeting in the morning and had to go home, then you pulled my shirt off and asked me to hold you. So that’s what I did, and you told me that I could shower in the morning if you wanted.”

A moment of tension passed between them--Bucky was sure of it. He did cringe inwardly a bit at the idea of asking Steve to just hold him all night, but he’d listened to him, hadn’t he? He also wasn’t exactly rushing out of his apartment.

Plus the fact that he’d wanted to make sure that he got home safe was, well...Bucky didn’t know what to do with that, other than the fact that it was so kind that it made him feel incredibly warm and happy.

Bucky’s gaze drifted down toward the towel tied around Steve’s waist.

“So,” Bucky licked his lips. “Do you still have a meeting to get to?”

Without waiting for Steve to give him an answer, he had already sunk to his knees, his fingers dancing across the edge of the towel. Steve sucked in a breath.

“Jesus,” he laughed, looking down at him. “You are gorgeous.”

“Don’t have to butter me up Stevie, since I know what you look like,” Bucky grinned up at him, fingers running across Steve’s warm, smooth skin. He ran his hands along Steve’s thighs, preening a little as he palmed Steve’s dick through the towel.

“God, you’re big, aren’t you?” Bucky murmured softly, looking up at Steve. “Big and perfect.” God, he wanted that dick inside him so badly, but there was something else that he wanted a little bit more first.

“Help me out here, Stevie?” he asked, because apparently Steve liked towels to be impossibly tight around his waist when he got out of the shower. Steve let out a breath and reached out to pull the towel. When it landed on the floor, Bucky finally (he’d been waiting approximately five minutes for this moment and what a long five minutes it had been) got a good look at him.

Long, but not scary. Thick, but not terrifying. A verifiably pretty dick.

He took him in hand, giving an experimental little pump (though honestly, nothing about Steve was little), relishing in the hitched gasps that he was able to pull from him, before taking Steve into his mouth.

Steve was too big to take all at once, but he satisfied himself by sucking on the tip of his cock, swirling his tongue around the head. When he brought his hand up to jerk him off at the same time, Steve finally let out a very loud moan, and threaded his fingers through his hair.

When he started to pull a little, that was something else. His cock was straining against the front of his briefs, and he had to reach down to give himself a bit of friction.

He moved his hand off of Steve’s dick for a moment, digging his fingers into his thighs, before moving lower to caress his balls. “Bucky, Bucky, Bucky,” Steve murmured, his eyes closed, each time he said his name like a revelation.

There was something about the tender, husky way that Steve said his name that made him want to pull more moans and gasps out of him. He could get used to this, seeing as usually all Brock did during sex was grunt in a series of increasingly off-putting ways, before loudly announcing to no one who cared that he was going to nut.

“Bucky,” Steve gasped again, “Bucky I’m going to come.”

This just served as further encouragement--Bucky, for his part, was finally about to get all of Steve’s cock into his mouth, nose brushing against his pubic hair as he swallowed around him.

Steve gasped again, pulling more tightly on his hair as he came.

Bucky swallowed, before running his tongue up and down his now-softening cock. Steve immediately hauled him to his feet and kissed him hard.

But of course, right as Steve had wrapped his arms around him and had started to deepen the kiss, his phone started ringing. Bucky whimpered softly as Steve let go of him to retrieve his phone.

“Yeah...yeah....yeah sure, we can do that. I’ll be there in 15. See you then.”

He gave Bucky an apologetic look, before tilting his head up for another kiss. “Sorry, but I have to go.”

“I can’t believe you have a meeting on a Saturday,” Bucky grumbled, flopping down dramatically on his bed. Sure, he could jerk off after Steve left, but would porn really be the same when he’d just had a naked blond Adonis in his studio?

No. No it would not.

“Freelance life. But,” Steve grinned, leaning over him and running his hands up and down Bucky’s sides. “It should only be an hour. Then, I’m all yours.”

Bucky leaned up a little to capture Steve’s lips, and almost immediately Steve had licked his way into his mouth. They kissed like that for a few seconds, before Steve got up and started pulling his clothes on.

“Promise, I’ll be back. Then, I’m going to take care of you properly,” Steve grinned again. Bucky fought the impulse to pinch himself.

“Do you...do you have my number?” he asked, wide-eyed and with a sense of disbelief in his tone that Steve seemed to find amusing.

“Yeah, you gave it to me like ten seconds after we met,” Steve smiled, this time, a bit softer, a bit more affectionate. “Can’t say that I minded.”

Bucky blushed. “Just go to your meeting.”

Steve smirked playfully, before leaning in and pecking him on the lips. “I promise it will be worth the wait,” he whispered into Bucky’s ear, sending a jolt up his spine.

“You’re evil.”

“I’m really, really not,” Steve laughed, before smiling broadly. “See you later.”

He blew a kiss right before he left, which made Bucky both feel that swooping in his gut again and want to throw one of his pillows after him.

After the door had closed behind him, Bucky picked up the phone from where he’d dropped it.

Six missed calls from Nat.

“Shit.”

He hit re-dial, but hit voicemail. After a beep, he took a deep breath, and ran a hand through his bedhead-sex-mused hair.

“Hey Nat, it’s me. Just wanted to let you know it wasn’t Brock.”


End file.
